


flower feelings

by rayline



Series: mcyt stuff lol [8]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, Fluff, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Near Death, No Smut, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sad and Happy ending, Swearing, Unrequited Love, first chapter is happy ending, haha angst am i right guys, im so good at this, maybe it is, maybe it isnt, no beta we die like men, ok I'll shut up now, second is sad ending, star trek??, the alternate storyline, what is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29127786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayline/pseuds/rayline
Summary: His hand gently guided the mouse from one side of the screen to the other, when a prick in his lungs left his hands hovering about the cursor. Without much more warning, Sapnap sat up and felt a vile taste on the back of his tongue as petals cascaded down from his mouth.He coughed, sputtered and more petals flew out, one hand gently clawing for his neck as the taste gently inched back out of his mouth. Computer slid off his lap, Sapnap stared at the faint rose coloured petals littering his lap, only 3. He opened his mouth to exhale, peeling his tongue from the roof of his mouth and a free hand gently reaching to grab a bottle of water. As he inhaled a gulp, letting the water stream down his throat, he felt the prick at his lungs again, a little poke that made his breathing trip over itself.Sapnap’s hands shook, carefully and confusedly as he placed the water back down and moved his gaze to stare at the petals in his lap. With a careful hand, he picked up the flowers and held it in the dip in his palm, staring at them intently. And with it, a bile taste rose in his mouth. Not the bittersweet taste of the vomiting flowers, but the nervous linger on the tip of his tongue.Maybe he should go to bed.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: mcyt stuff lol [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137227
Comments: 39
Kudos: 143





	1. [1]

**Author's Note:**

> let's all turn a blind eye if i start using british terminology whoops haha nope that didnt happen hhAHHhha
> 
> if you saw me post this earlier no you didnt
> 
> and finally: let's all pretend karl dream sapnap and george live nearby. fantasy :star:

\--

It’d been late at night when it all started. The sun had long since dipped back down over the horizon, the moon shining a faint glow through Sapnap’s curtains. It streamed in liquidly, smoothly rolling down the white floor in a languid motion, thick like the flow of honey. Sapnap sat on his bed, gently staring at the dim blue light layering onto his face in the shadow of nighttime. 

His hand gently guided the mouse from one side of the screen to the other, when a prick in his lungs left his hands hovering about the cursor. Without much more warning, Sapnap sat up and felt a vile taste on the back of his tongue as petals cascaded down from his mouth, perfectly dry despite having just drunk water.

He coughed, sputtered and more petals flew out, one hand gently clawing for his neck as the taste gently inched back out of his mouth. Computer slid off his lap, Sapnap stared at the faint rose coloured petals littering his lap, only 3. He opened his mouth to exhale, peeling his tongue from the roof of his mouth and a free hand gently reaching to grab a bottle of water. As he inhaled a gulp, letting the water stream down his throat, he felt the prick at his lungs again, a little poke that made his breathing trip over itself. 

Sapnap’s hands shook, carefully and confusedly as he placed the water back down and moved his gaze to stare at the petals in his lap. With a careful hand, he picked up the flowers and held it in the dip in his palm, staring at them intently. And with it, a bile taste rose in his mouth. Not the bittersweet taste of the vomiting flowers, but the nervous linger on the tip of his tongue. 

Maybe he should go to bed.

-

Sapnap wasn’t stupid, not by any means. Maybe he didn’t quite pass highschool as a prodigy or go off to pursue higher education past college, but there was no use denying the fact that when he woke up, petals gently littering the edge of his pillow, he was slipping his toes into deep, uncharted waters. 

He woke up, head spinning in circles as his eyes struggled to adjust to the sight of light pink petals across his cream coloured pillow. He exhaled nervously, a shaky tone rising in his voice as he quickly slipped them under the pillow and stood up, slipping on a hoodie and pacing to the bathroom.

He gripped the sink with both hands, wide, trembling eyes staring back at him in horror. Knuckles whitened, and gaze dripping down to the sink as he steadied himself, Sapnap heard a knock at the door shoot him out of his thoughts. He flinched a bit, body twitching as he stepped back and looked at the door rapidly, almost panicked. 

“Uh,” he replied, lamely. He could practically hear Dream (who else would it be?) rolling his eyes on the other side of the door, footsteps descending away further. 

“Don’t take all day,” he shot back, voice fading. 

Sapnap let out a steady sigh, one hand placed onto the wall and other fumbling for a grip onto something, anything. As if to steady himself back in the real world.

To say Sapnap was panicking was an understatement. And with a pinch of salt to Dream’s comment, Sapnap stood in the bathroom for a moment, bile taste on the back of his tongue as he rushed to the toilet. 

Sapnap tipped his head over the toilet, hair dangling in the corners of his vision as petals gently danced out of his mouth and into the toilet water. It was almost insulting, how gently they floated down and the pretty pinkness of the flowers that were tearing his insides up because he was stupid. Because he didn’t control his feelings and fell.

Actually, wait, who did the petals belong to?

Sapnap’s breathing halted, catching and fumbling in the back of his throat, running down a list of candidates. George? Sapnap shook his head, something about that idea didn’t feel right. Karl? No, not him either.

Dream?

The silence was loud, too loud. The stench in the bathroom hung weakly over Sapnap’s head, a horrible retching sound being torn from his throat to tear his thoughts away from his roommate as more petals cascaded through the air and down further. He felt his hands tremble on the lid of the bathroom toilet, the weight of his mistakes growing into his lungs and piercing his every breath.

Shit.

There was no denying it, Sapnap was screwed.

He grunted, a palm digging into the lid, fumbling hands gripping for something to let his anger out on. A weak chuckle tore itself from the skin off the back of Sapnap’s throat, leaving him sore and collapsed on the bathroom floor, petals continuing to prick at his lungs. Pretty pink flowers that would kill him.

His mother told him, didn’t she? Be careful about falling in love. Sapnap did his best, he really did. He kept away from those feelings and proudly kept himself from falling for anyone, or anyone falling for him. No dust on his hands, his dust on nobodies hands. 

How could he have been so stupid? So careless? He dug his rawly bitten nails into the plastic of the toilet lid, wondering when it started, what went wrong? Did his lingering gaze hold a little too long? Did his laughs become a little too fond? Did their connection verge into a territory dangerous to cross?

Sapnap collapsed onto his knees, head in his palms and tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, each shaky breath a little more difficult as he realised his mistake.

“Sap-- you good?” Dream’s voice called from the bathroom door.

Sapnap wanted to scream, yell, kick and punch and fight to stop himself from falling into something that’s killed billions. He wanted to cry on Dream’s shoulder and blame him for everything. He wanted to see a doctor and demand he take the stupid flowers out of his lungs.

And yet there still remained the sick part of him that still wanted to love. To love his best mate, to remember him, to be with him.

“I’m fine,” Sapnap called, voice steadying for the act. He forced himself up, trying to get his nerves to melt back into steel. 

-

Sapnap found himself picking at scrambled eggs with a fork, stomach twisting with too much pent up energy to eat. The metal slid across the plate in a harsh tone, pushing egg by egg aside. Dream looked up from his phone, resting lazily on the couch. “Something up?”

Sapnap had to force himself not to scoff, to shove the bile rising up his throat back into his damaged lungs. “Nah, just woke up on the wrong side of the bed,”

Dream’s eyes gave away his sincere gaze, knowing he was lying but didn’t press further. Because Dream knew Sapnap, and Sapnap knew Dream.

Sapnap’s first emotion was disgust. There was something inherently unnatural-- wrong -- about liking, loving, your best friend. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself, someone who will be there for you no matter the scenario. The person you can rely on any time, all the time. 

It’s like in elementary school when a boy and a girl were friends, but everyone believed they liked each other. The childish feeling of separation between platonic and romantic. There’s a divide between the two loves for a reason because they’re so different. Mixing them only inserts and bubbles into a dangerous concoction. 

Sapnap missed the life of a child, too young to comprehend or process romantic love, only capable of knowing platonic and familial. Never having to walk on eggshells around people getting a little too close, never avoiding talking to people to weaken a bond just to make sure that that bond doesn’t grow past its limits.

He placed his fork down on the side of the plate, a short clattering sound as metal hit metal. He breathed through his nose, appetite demolished into smithereens and too much on his mind to even consider eating. Wordlessly, he walked back to his room, footsteps careful and gentle against the wood floor as he shut the door behind him slowly. 

He couldn’t do this, not right now. He needed a distraction.

-

Sapnap’s first coping attempt was denial. Which was stupid, especially as more petals hacked out from his mouth and into the toilet bowl. His attempt was even more feeble when his mind shifted from gear to gear on what his denial was actually about . 

Grip tight, knuckles white, Sapnap stared at the toilet bowl feeling disarrayed and out of place, vibrant pink petals taunting him again and again. This couldn’t be happening to him, he thought dazedly, it’s just a dream. He couldn’t love Dream-- he didn’t love Dream. There was no way he fell into the pit of green that were his eyes, the sinking green feeling.

Which was ironic, because he certainly felt pretty green right now.

Sapnap tried to laugh but sputtered as more petals taunted his airstream, disgusting sounds of vomit induced flowers sinking from his mouth. His breath was shaky and his arms shuddered weakly against the pain, eyes staring at a violent red clump of a root sploshing around in the water that came out with the petals. 

Sapnap let out a whimpered sob, something he hoped nobody heard out of pure disgust from just listening to himself. 

He didn’t want this-- he didn’t want to die.

-

“Sapnap. Nick!” Dream’s voice gently rang through Sapnap’s ears, a familiar sound as his name rolled off his tongue languidly. Sapnap found he quite liked that.

He had to suppress the urge to vomit more flowers. Even merely thinking of Dream would put him into a flower induced coma, sitting over the bathroom sink, trembling, and wishing it would stop. Wishing that breathing didn’t hurt, wishing that the butterflies in his stomach didn’t erupt into action when Dream sat a little too close to him. Wishing this wasn’t real, and that he’d wake up any moment now. Any day now.

Sapnap’s vision slowly blurred from where he’d gazed off, gently staring at the blank wall facing the couch. 

He groaned, tired and weak from vomiting flowers earlier to provide a satisfactory response.

“Are you really good, man?”

“Yeah yeah, I‘m fine, Dream,” Sapnap reassured, moving a hand to rub his eyes. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Dream hummed, scanning his face with his eyes for a moment (Sapnap didn’t fidget under his gaze, he refused to admit that he fidgeted under his gaze.) and sighed. “George just texted me, there’s a new club that opened a few blocks from here, are you up for going?”

Sapnap wanted to grunt in response, shake it off and say no thanks, but he was caught like a fish on a line at Dream’s pleading eyes. If Sapnap didn’t go, he’d be stuck with George (and Karl, likely) at a club. Dream didn’t like clubs.

Sapnap didn’t either, but whatever. 

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah, yeah sure. When’s he gonna be here?”

“Maybe 5 minutes?”

Sapnap swore under his breath and stood up off the couch, glancing at the dripping sunset and moved to his room to throw on something that isn’t a worn hoodie.

-

Sapnap fucking hated clubs. He always fucking did. Despite his personality, he truly, utterly, despised them.

Drink in his hand gently swaying it, he gently slumped over the barstool and stared at his lone hand on the counter, drink untouched. He set the glass down, watching the alcohol pool and swirl around the edges before gently swaying to a stop. His ears still rang from the last song, loud and vibrant and shaking the floor.

George had fucked off halfway through the night, probably somewhere on the dance floor having the time of his life. Karl was on the other side of the bar, chatting up some guy about music or whatever.

Dream.

Well, Dream was a few seats away from Sapnap, gently chatting with a pretty looking lady, brown hair draped over her shoulders and face soft and sweet. They were laughing, they’ve been laughing. Too long, too long.

Sapnap let his eyes linger on the side of Dream’s head, gently trying to trace the outline of his face in his mind as if to engrave it somewhere in his brain. This random girl didn’t know Dream like he did, she didn’t know his real laugh, the way his shoulders would shake and his eyes crinkle at the corners. The way his nose scrunched up and the way he wheezed and clenched his stomach if he laughed too hard.

Nobody knew Dream like Sapnap did, and even through all the faults either have made there’s been nothing that stops them from being connected at the hip. The little things like how Dream let Sapnap sleep in after a long day or the way he’d rub soothing circles on his back with his hand as he held him gently, watching Sapnap pour his feelings out. The way he’d say good morning every day, even if it wasn’t morning. Stupid things, little things. Sapnap loved them with his heart, and he yearned to keep seeing them day to day.

Sapnap felt a prick at the back of his throat, and his hand shot to his mouth to keep the petals from falling onto the counter, shooting his head back down as a retching sound tore his throat raw. Dream looked over at him, the girl also staring intently and worriedly.

“Nick, you good?”

Sapnap’s hands weakly shook, uncovering them from his mouth and clasping them as quickly and as tightly as he could to keep Dream (and the lady) from seeing the pretty pink fucking petals. 

Too late, because Dream's eyes gently saw him clasp around something that looked oddly pink against the white of his palm. He didn’t piece it together, not right away, but worry definitely grew in the pit of his stomach. 

“Yeah, yeah I‘m fine,” he murmured, clenching his fist and moving the petals into the pocket of his jeans quickly. It’s a phrase he seems to be repeating a lot, recently. Dream’s eyes followed his hand and darted back up to his eyes when he saw the pink again. Vomit was certainly not pink nor grippable (a/n: ew). 

“Nick is that--”

But Sapnap had already moved to leave, shifting up from the seat and quickly sliding off into another corridor to avoid explanation for anything. Halfway down the corridor, he had to stop and lean a hand against the wall, hand shooting back up to his mouth. He coughed and sputtered, strangers that were leaving the hallway giving him a mix of disgusted and empathetic glances when they saw the tiny little flower in his hand. 

Sapnap’s arm shook and he leaned against the wall, staring at his open palm as a very small, blood-coloured rose lay in his hand. 

It was getting worse. It was getting so much worse.

How could this have happened? Petals dissolved into small flowers in a matter of 3 weeks, how could he let this happen?

Someone laid a hand on his shoulder, and Sapnap flinched at the movement, finding the woman from earlier placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and offering a weak smile. She frowned a bit, staring at the flower, but still held the soft gaze on her face as she pulled out a blue flower from the pocket of her jacket. A sympathy reminder that he wasn’t alone.

Sapnap let out a weak laugh and stared at the flower, then back up at the lady. The flower was a light cyan, a bit bigger than his dull pink flower but it spread and bloomed gracefully. Sapnap’s eyebrows furrowed at the gesture and let out a weak laugh of sympathy. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. The woman pressed her lips into a thin line and pocketed the flower, presumably to throw it away later. 

She gently walked in front of him and enveloped him in a hug. He was hugging a stranger he will probably never see again because of their mutual fate to die sooner or later.

Sapnap laughed shakily, trembling as he wrapped his arms around the stranger as well, feeling hot tears threaten his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, as well,” She murmured, pulling away from the sympathetic hug. Sapnap sighed and gripped the flower in his hand, tightly and gently looking away from her face.

“Walk with me?” She asked softly, and Sapnap looked behind him to make sure Dream hadn’t seen and turned back to the woman, nodding softly against his better judgement to not trust strangers.

She gently led the way out of the corridor, pushing open a heavy door and letting the wind whip through her hair. Sapnap let his eyes linger as he gently stepped out into the cool summer breeze, sighing deeply as she continued walking and letting the fresh air fill his pricked lungs. He gently walked beside her as she slipped off her heels, rubbing the back of her ankle from the red sore. Sapnap gently walked beside her as she regained her pace, sitting down on a bench and tapping the spot next to her. Sapnap sat by the arm, a wide gap between him and her.

The streetlights shone a calm look on the woman’s face, as she stared out into the clouded overhead and let out a puff of breath, coughing for a moment and sputtering, turning away and placing her hand to her mouth for a second before turning back to Sapnap with an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” she mumbled. 

Sapnap offered a weak smile, gently shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Nick, was it?” She asked carefully. Sapnap nodded. “I’m Callie.” 

They sat in silence for a moment. “You’ve caught it too?” Sapnap asked. She nodded solemnly. 

“Yeah,” She laughed grimly. “Bit of a shame, I just landed a new job too.”

Sapnap offered another weak smile. “Who if you don’t mind me askin’?”

Callie sighed heavily and restored her chin on her fist, arm propped up on the arm of the bench. People silently walked by, light gently flickered through the street lamps as she seemed to contemplate it for a moment, a timid and tired smile on her face. “Friend of mine. She’s straight.”

Sapnap heaved a laugh, rolling back into the back of the bench. “We both have shitty situations, huh?”

Callie laughed too, looking him in the eyes and searching his face for something. “Let me guess— your friend, Clay?”

Sapnap nodded, the smile on his face dripping down into a frown. “Yeah.”

She nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly.

Sapnap nodded, peeling his eyes away and glueing them to the ground near the club, the wind whispering his apology for him. “I’m sorry, too.”

“It’s a shame,” she muttered. “Having to choke to death over your own feelings.”

Sapnap felt tears gently prick at his eyes, hot streams warming the bitter cold frost on his cheeks from the cold summer nights. He didn’t know why he was crying, honestly. just that he didn’t want to die. 

He wanted to love and be loved and he didn’t want to die. He choked on a sob and covered his mouth, another flower erupting from the back of his throat. Callie looked at him worriedly, and he gave a weak smile, pocketing the flower carefully. Callie’s brows furrowed in concentration, moving to pick the flower from her side pocket and let it rest in the dip in her palm. 

“Taunting, isn’t it, how beautiful the flowers are?”

Sapnap looked at the flower then back at her and smiled. 

“We have to fight against some flowers to live, to love.”

Sapnap chuckled lamely, staring at the blue flower in her palm. “Stupid, really.”

“Truly.”

-

Sapnap stared at the ceiling hopelessly, the dark shadows coating the walls and the faint stream of moonlight the only guide for his eyes to use. What time was it? He couldn’t tell, only that it was late and his heart was dripping into his bloodstream like melted wax, punctuated only by the occasional cough up of small pink flowers.

He held a flower in the dip in his hand, this one not coated in any blood or any form of unrequited love mixing his bloodstream together like a terrible concoction. His breathing stuttered and tripped over itself, turning the sinless pink flower around in the moonlit room. 

It was too late to lie to himself, it was too late to ignore the little voice in the back of his head shouting the truth of the matter, which was that Sapnap loved Dream, but Dream would never love him back. Because they were best mates, and Dream was straight.

Sapnap’s lips quivered into a frown, heart-tugging at the strings holding it up as if that would do anything to ease the pain of knowing he’ll either live, unable to love and forget Dream, or die, unloved. 

Truly, this was a terrible scenario.

Sapnap laughed harshly, mumbled under his breath and quiet. 

He’ll admit it, he wanted to be loved. He wanted to be held and told everything will be alright, he wanted someone there to hug him in his worst moments, he wanted someone to kiss him and make him forget his problems, even if only for a fraction of a second.

What a cruel reality this was.

Sapnap laughed bitterly, spluttering halfway through and coughing up the remains of a few discarded petals, albeit painful in his lying down position. 

He wanted Dream, but Dream would never want him.

He just wanted this madness to end.

-

Sapnap didn’t want to die, the last thing he wanted was to die by this STUPID FUCKING DISEASE. His arms quivered as he sobbed out of frustration and pain, thorns pricking woefully at the back of his throat and flowers clogging up his airways. It was hard to breathe, his breath stuttered and shook as more flowers erupted from his mouth.

“Please make it stop,” he whimpered to himself, leaned over the toilet bowl and vomiting more pretty pink flowers. 

Sapnap wanted so many things. He wanted the flowers gone, he wanted Dream to love him. He wanted Dream to hold him, kiss him, reassure him it was ok. He wanted Dream, but he also wanted the flowers to stop killing him from the inside. 

And he’d have to choose. Die unloved, or live without love.

Sapnap let more hot tears coat his face in a painful gasp as he tipped his head back over the toilet bowl, now used to this motion.

Dream came home early, that day.

A rap at the door to which Sapnap couldn’t respond, too weak holding himself up over the toilet bowl and vomiting flowers to do anything. His body was sore, it was weak, and it couldn’t take much more. Dream was met with the sound of pain-induced crying, and more horrible retching.

Sapnap wished he locked the door.

Dream gently pushed the door open, heart plopping down to the bottom of his stomach, seeing Sapnap keeled over the toilet vomiting spring flowers and whimpering in pain like an injured puppy. Weak, defenceless, helpless.

Dream gently set the phone in his hand onto the counter, and kneeled next to Sapnap, wordlessly rubbing his back soothingly, knowing he couldn’t do much more until the flowers stopped for a bit. Sapnap let out a dry heaved cough, petals and blood sticking to his chin and eyes sore and raw from so much crying. Dream’s lips pressed into a gentle frown, waiting as Sapnap regained his breath, albeit with difficulty, and sat back up, collapsing against the wall nearest to the toilet and letting out a choked sob.

Dream retracted his hand carefully, wrapping his arms around the boy silently and gently rubbing soothing circles into his back. Sapnap whimpered and dug his face in the crook of his neck, weak, pained, and dying.

They sat like that before Dream finally spoke, voice soft. “Can you walk?”

Sapnap nodded weakly against the boy, watching as Dream retracted and stood up, offering a hand up to help Sapnap. Sapnap’s hand lamely gripped around his as he groaned and heaved himself up. Dream slightly tilted his head towards the direction out of the bathroom, hand still gently clasped in Sapnap’s and leading him out to the living room.

They both sat on the couch, wordlessly and tensely. Sapnap didn’t think it’d ever come to this, but here he was, sitting on the couch with his best mate realising he was dying. Dream swallowed thickly, opening his mouth to speak then stumbling over his words.

“Who?” he finally settled on.

Sapnap felt too weak to say ‘you,’ so he mumbled a weak, “you don't know him.”

Dream frowned, lips pressing into a thin line. Sapnap felt his heart do a lame leap, almost as if it lept and then tripped and fell, squashing itself and turning that butterfly feeling into a horrible gut-wrenching one. Dream leaned an elbow against the couch, rubbing his temple with his fingers idly, not able to look Sapnap in the eyes. Sapnap couldn’t blame him, he probably looked more than miserable right now.

“How long has the… disease been, y’know…?”

Sapnap frowned as well, lips curling down. He took a moment to think before gently whispering out, “4 months.”

It was silent. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Dream whimpered, voice cracking in several places and tears starting to overwhelm his eyes with pent up emotions.

“It wasn’t a big deal, at first,” Sapnap explained through weak coughs. Dream whirled around, near flinching when he looked Sapnap in the eyes again, seeing the tired, pained boy’s state.

“Not a big deal? Not a big deal? Sapnap you’re dying! My best friend is dying by some stranger's hands and he didn’t even think to tell me!” Dream felt his heart pound in his ears, choked down sobs blocking his throat up and tears streaming from his eyes against his will.

“‘m sorry,” Sapnap whispered out, so weakly it made Dream immediately reel back. Sapnap curled in on himself, literally, knees pressed up to his chest and hoodie draping over him. Dream felt the inexplicable want to wrap the boy in a tight hug, let him cry on his shoulder and hold him tightly, let his problems melt into the tears that would stain the fabric of his shirt. Kiss his tears away, hold the boy close enough this mystery man couldn’t hurt him, couldn’t kill him. 

He did none of that, though, and sat still where he was, watching the boy peel his eyes away from him and down to the ground in a guilty look.

“I know, Sapnap, I know.” Dream whispered gingerly, letting his eyes linger on the sight of the man’s fragile frame. How long had he not eaten? He looked so pale, fragile, weak. 

Dream and Sapnap sat in thick silence for a minute or two, Dream’s eyes nervous and not knowing where to stick themselves, always retreating back to Sapnap. “You have to fix this,” he said, eventually.

Sapnap merely shook his head and coughed lamely once more, pulling out a blood frosted flower from his mouth and staring at it weakly.

“Why not?”

“I’m not going to get doctors to surgically remove my ability to love.”

Dream spluttered and sat up straighter, eyes focused on the man.“Sapnap this is your life we’re talking about here. You could- you could die and leave me, and Karl, and George and me and- and- god!” he tripped over his words, feeling the choked back sobs return to close up his throat, making it hard to breathe, hard to see. 

He couldn’t lose Sapnap, he couldn’t. 

“I’m sorry,”

“Please, I can’t let you die,” Dream murmured out, a whisper so hoarse it was a plea. 

Sapnap’s eyebrows furrowed, albeit weakly, and he thought for a moment. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

-

Sapnap didn’t see a doctor. He refused to see a doctor. He didn’t want to live but be unable to love. He didn’t want to forget Dream, a life without him or love, that doesn’t sound very much like a life he’d like a lot to him. 

But Sapnap ran through Dream’s words one more time in his head, hearing the crack in his voice, heart in his throat. The plead for him not to leave, it made Sapnap’s heart sink further down than he knew possible.

He felt sorry, most of all. Beyond sorry that he had made up his mind a long time ago. 

-

Sapnap had maybe a month or two to live. He sent a half-assed tweet to his followers that he’ll be taking a short break for his health and that was that. Dream hung around the flat more than usual. Sure, he was usually still at the flat, but he didn’t go out with George as much or go to Karl to record as many videos. 

Sapnap didn’t get out of bed, hardly did. He had his laptop and his phone on him at all times and he would sit there, uselessly watching youtube videos of people doing the things he wished he had time to do in his life. Dream would sit with him, most of the time. Sometimes in place of Sapnap’s recording station, sometimes on the edge of the bed or propped up on the side of the bed, sometimes right next to him. While they chatted about useless things like they used to, firing back and forth jokes at each other.

Sometimes, Dream would come back to the flat to find Sapnap hunched over the toilet, crying and spitting out more flowers. He’d always wordlessly drop by his side and rub soothing circles into his back, waiting the session out. Then he’d sit with him and gently rub the petals and blood off with a warm towel and sit with him, letting Sapnap wrap his arms around him and sob into his shoulder. Dream would just sit there with him for hours, gently rocking him back and forth until he was calm. (Or in the one instance he fell asleep, where Dream just sat and fell asleep with him in silence, sharing some form of body warmth between them.)

Sapnap has taken to counting the petals, a self-soothing method to calm himself down when Dream wasn’t there. Every one or two weeks, a new petal would sprout onto the flowers, making them fuller and more beautiful, and Sapnap would love to look at them if they weren’t killing him from the inside. 

He loved every second he had with Dream, the idle conversations that meant nothing in the end, the way he’d rub soothing circles into his back to calm him down, sit with him while he had a panic attack over his looming death, the way he’d rock him back and forth as they held each other tightly as if clinging to each other would keep the universe from ripping them apart.

He loved it, but it hurt to know that he’d be gone soon and never see his face again. He’d be gone soon, and leave Dream alone. He’d be gone soon, and Dream would never love him back like that. He’d be gone soon.

-

Dream let the tears flow through the gaps in between his fingers, hands planted on his face to muffled choked sobs and weak cries. Half-awake somewhere around 2am, Dream tried not to think of how much worse Sapnap was looking. He helped him eat, he helped him drink, tilting his chin up so the water would flow down his throat and not hurt him as much.

Sapnap was almost dead, and Dream was scared. Scared beyond scared, he was frightened, terrified, petrified. He’d stare up at the ceiling, broken sobs tearing through him and weak whimpers worked their way through his veins. Shaky breath, inhale-exhale. 1, 2, 3. Inhale, exhale, try not to cry.

He needed to see Sapnap, now. 

Dream pushed aside the covers lazily and sloppily, slipping out of bed and creaking out of his room into the hallway, opening the door next to his slightly, not expecting to see the lights turned off and Sapnap breathing slowly and quietly, asleep in his bed for the first time in ages. Dream stood there for a moment, a clawing mix of wanting someone to hold him and tell him it’ll be ok and wanting to leave because Sapnap hasn’t slept properly in ages.

Don’t be selfish, Dream.

He let out a shaky breath, only a fraction more calmed down as he moved his palm to wrap around the doorknob and begin to close the door. Sapnap gently sat up in bed, rubbing at his eyes and squinting in Dream's direction, who had paused mid door close and frowned. “Dream?”

Dream gently let the door open again, rubbing his arms and standing lamely in the doorway, dried tears still pricked on his cheeks as he looked down shamefully. Sapnap let a knot crease his brows as he opened his arms invitingly, yet weakly, as Dream gently made his way over to the bed, collapsing onto his knees in front of him on the bed and burying his face in Sapnap’s shoulder, arms wrapped tight around his back and gentle sobs cracking in the room.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whimpered out, Sapnap feeling guilt pull at his heart. He gently held him back, letting his chin fall on his adjacent shoulder, one rubbing a soothing finger up and down his spine the way his mother used to do when he was younger to calm him down.

“I won’t leave you, Dream, ever,” he whispered, already knowing it was a lie.

-

Sapnap looked up from where he was propped up on the couch, blanket gently wrapped around him and laptop on his lap. Dream fumbled with the keys in the door gently, moving to open the door.

“Where’re you going?” Sapnap asked, a frown creasing his face.

Dream looked back at him. “Out with George, why?”

“Just askin’,” he murmured, a bit disappointed he was going out.

“D’you want to come?” Dream offered, hand no longer on the doorknob and body turned towards Sapnap.

“No no just- just go live your life and don’t let me get in the way.” He mumbled, turning back to his laptop. 

Dream frowned. “You’re not in the way, Sapnap, but are you sure you don’t want to come? You haven’t left the house in ages--”

“I know, Dream,” Sapnap replied, a little harsher this time.

“Then why are you sitting around sulking? Go live the little life you have left, for god's sake Sapnap!” Dream snapped, voice raising in tone, Sapnap gripped the blanket on his lap and gritted his teeth.

“I can’t!” He snapped, voice lowering quickly. “i can’t.”

Dream breathed a frustrated sigh, retreating back to his room and emerging a half-minute later with a bag and some clothes half-arsed and thrown in there.

“What’re you doing?” Sapnap asked, almost a bit demandingly.

“Grabbing some stuff, I’m staying with Karl for the night. I need a break.” Dream replied, out the door and slamming it shut behind him. The vibration echoed through the flat, and suddenly Sapnap was left in silence.

He deserved this, anyways.

-

It was 2 days before Dream got back. The first thing Dream noticed when he unlocked the door was the overwhelming rose fragrance floating in the air. An assaulting smell that smacked him in the face with a tightly closed fist. The next thing he noticed was the horrible, gut-wrenching sound coming from the kitchen.

Blood trailed from the couch to the hallway, and Dream’s stomach immediately dropped, heart beating into his ears louder than the retching echoing from the kitchen. The overnight bag slung over Dream’s shoulder dropped as Dream loosened his grip on it, letting it slip off naturally as his feet clattered against the wooden floor.

The kitchen was a disaster, flowers covering every inch of the floor and swallowing it whole. Chunks of green vine stuck out from place to place and sticky, thick blood coated the top of the floor like a morbid frosting covering a horrible cake. Sapnap lied on his knees, hands wobbly and weak as he struggled to keep himself up. 

Dream’s first instinct was to freeze, and his second instinct was to clatter over to Sapnap, dropping to his knees beside him quietly, waiting for some flowers to drop out of his mouth. It looked difficult to breathe, flowers covering up most of his airways. He hacked, trying to get the flowers out. He screwed his eyes shut, letting out a weak whimper of pain, a soft sound that made Dream’s heart wrench and twist in pain. 

When Sapnap looked up, Dream could only pinpoint how miserable he looked. Eyes puffy, red, sore from so much crying. Tears streaked his cheeks, no longer dusted a nice pink colour but a pale, icy, cold white colour that reflected the moonlight streaming in through the nearby window. His bones stuck against his skin, and hoodies were like dresses on his malnourished figure.

Pink whole flowers were stuck to his chin, dribbled with blood. He coughed and sputtered, too weak to meet his eyes before dropping down to retch more flowers from his raw throat. Dream gently lifted up his chin (albeit a bit hurriedly) towards the fridge, wrapping his fingers around Sapnap’s sides to help him move over to a more comfortable sitting position.

Sapnap shifted, let out weak whimpers of pain and the weakness and fatigue induced by this flower-like coma, with legs sprawled weakly out. Dream withdrew his shaky hands, taking another glance at the floor and wondering how long Sapnap had sat here, in pain, crying and whimpering for help before he couldn’t speak anymore.

It was all his fault.

Tears prick at the corners of Dream’s eyes, wondering where he went wrong. Wondering what he could have done to save his friend. Wondering all the things Sapnap would never get to see, wondering all the things Sapnap would miss because he was about to die in his arms and it was all his fault. 

Dream felt his arms shake, clenched against Sapnap’s arms as if he gripped hard enough Sapnap would stay right where he was and never leave, that bright vividity in his eyes would never leave, that beautiful expression would never fade into the embrace of death. He hoped and he hoped, but Dream knew Sapnap was going to die. In his arms. All his fault.

Blisteringly hot tears boiled down Dream’s skin, threatening to tear off the chunks where they dribbled down. All he could manage was a weak whimper, a quiver of breath and a choked sob blocking his throat. 

“I’m so sorry,” Dream whispered out, voice hoarse and breaking like shattered glass. This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening!

All his fault.

Soft tears fell down Sapnap’s icy white cheeks, a limp smile twitching onto his face. Sapnap tried to swallow, but only coughed more, a hacking sound that sounded like someone was driving a blade straight through his throat and digging into the flesh and ripping it apart. 

Dream’s breaths were shallow and forced, eyes staring into Sapnap’s for as long as he could before they would be gone. He stifled a cry of pain, not wanting to let Sapnap leave this world with that being his last memory. 

Sapnap’s breathing was slow, choked and heavy, and against Sapnap’s extreme weakness and the heavy starvation that plagued his bones from being sick, he brought a hand up to Dream’s cheek, thumb swiping over the pool of tears cascading down his face. Dream whimpered, bringing his own hand up to gently clasp over Sapnap’s.

Sapnap’s smile was weak, and it wasn’t his anymore. It felt too painful, too calm, too collected for a man about to die, for a man Dream was about to lose forever.

“I love you,” Sapnap whispered, a tone so quiet Dream nearly missed it. Dream’s breathing shallowed even more, gripping his Sapnap’s hand tightly, throat closed and not able to see through the tears alighting his face. 

“I love you too, I love you so much, I love you so so much Sapnap.” Dream’s voice quivered and shattered mid-sentence, sniffling as he felt the air blockage in his throat close further. 

Sapnap’s smile was weak but beautiful. Dream tried to engrave it in his mind as a final tear ran down the man’s face. 

A helpless breath choked out by his lungs, and Sapnap struggled for air for a moment, one hand clawing the floor for help.

Then it stopped.

Dream’s grip loosened on Sapnap’s hand, letting the hand drop to the floor as his body went limp.

Head rolled to the side, life in his eyes swiped and stolen. Lips parted, blue, bloodstained. Skin pale, starved.

Dream screamed.

His hands clawed at his friend, arms wrapping onto his shoulders and gripping him tightly.

“Sapnap, Sapnap!” Dream’s voice quickly went hoarse, shaking the dead man’s shoulders. It did nothing but rock the body slightly into Dream’s arms. Dream’s voice shook, wrapping his arms around him, gripping onto the back of his hoodie and nails digging into the little flesh left on his back. Hands clenched white, Dream screamed. He let a shrill scream pierce the air that broke into a choked sob, wracking his entire body, burying his face into his shoulder. 

“Wake up, wake up, wake UP!” Dream pleaded into the fabric of his shoulder, feeling his body go limp into the dead man’s arms, broken sobs littering the air.

“wake up, please,” Dream begged, “please wake up. please wake up, Sapnap please wake up this isn’t funny.”

He rocked the body lying limp in his arms, struggling pleads wrecking the air, “i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you please please you can’t go, i’m right here. i love you, Sapnap please please.” 

Quivered sobs and quick breaths forced themselves through Dream’s airways, making it hard to breathe. “Sapnap please, please don’t go. Please, Karl needs you. George needs you, I need you. I love you so much, Sapnap please don’t leave. please don’t leave, please don’t leave.” 

A torn whimper, tighter grip and throat rubbed raw and sore.

“i love you.”

-

Dream’s screaming was loud enough to alert all nearby neighbours that there was something seriously wrong. The next door neighbour had arrived and immediately called the cops, seeing Dream cradling Sapnap’s dead body and rocking back and forth, incoherent cries caking the air. 

George and Karl arrived quickly after, and Karl tried to peel Dream off Sapnap, but the poor man didn't see him, didn’t notice him, didn’t care. He just kept moaning cries into the fabric of Sapnap’s now tear-stained hoodie. When the ambulance arrived, only the medical professionals were able to tear Dream off Sapnap’s body, albeit with a lot of kicking and screaming and pain formed crying.

A few hours later, it was quiet in the flat. No, not Sapnap and Dream’s flat, George’s flat. Dream sat stiffly on the couch, a cup of hot cocoa now long since cooled stuck in his hands as he stared with a blank, empty stare in front of him. George tried talking but was met with silence. Karl was no better. 

“Dream—“ Karl tried, after a few too many stretched thin minutes of silence.

“It’s all my fault,” was all Dream managed. His lip quivered and his eyes were puffy red from so much crying, face soaked with old and new tears. 

“It’s not your fault, Dream, none of us saw this coming—“ Karl continued feebly.

“it was me, Karl.” he whimpered out quietly. “he loved me and i was too stupid and an idiot to tell him i loved him back.”

When they stayed silent, Dream continued, hands shaking, hot cocoa dropping into his lap and eyes staring at it intently, tears falling off his face and dripping into the cocoa quietly. “it’s all my fault, Sapnap is dead because i didn’t— i couldn't—“ 

Karl gently shifted forwards in his seat, taking the mug out of the man’s hands and setting it onto the table, wrapping his arms around him in a gentle hug. George stood up to leave, shooting a sympathetic look to nobody in particular, leaving to go to another room to gather his thoughts. 

Dream buried his face into Karl’ shoulder, tired sobs wracking his body and shattering his mind even more.

“I miss him.”

Karl idly rubbed soothing circles on Dream’s back, hoping it did something to help the broken boy’s mood. Karl was devastated, but he wasn’t as close to Sapnap as Dream was. Now here he sat, cradling Dream in his arms as the man sobbed and pleaded into his shoulder.

“I know.” Karl replied, the day settling into his bones, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. Pretend today didn’t happen.

-

Dream couldn't bear going back into their— his— flat. It still was coated in Sapnap. Sapnap’s dirty fucking socks, Sapnap’s possessions mixed with Dream’s, Sapnap’s favourite fucking mug, Sapnap’s clothes, unfinished food, Sapnap. Half of it was still Sapnap and it made Dream sick.

Dream stayed on George’s couch that night, blanket wrapped around his freezing torso and eyes glued to the ceiling.

He hadn’t slept. Not a wink. He was tired, and his eyelids hung down heavily. But every time he closed his eyes all he could see was Sapnap’s dead body, cradled in his arms, and suddenly he couldn’t sleep anymore. 

“i love you,” he whispered to the universe, voice raw and knuckles bleeding and picked in several places where he had idly clawed at them. “i love you, i love you i love you i love you.” 

But what were 3 words to a dead man? 

Dream stifled a sob, trying not to wake George at 4:00 in the morning. 

He was gone, and he was never coming back.

Dream didn’t sleep.

-

Dream felt sick. Not in the Hanahaki kind of way-- the kind of way when you realise what a horrible mistake you’ve made. The kind of sick you get when you realise you’ve just made the worst mistake of your life, and you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to live it down.

Dream didn’t even try eating or drinking, it hurt too much to get out of bed. It hurt too much to walk into the kitchen where Sapnap took his last breath. It hurt too much to leave the safety of his room. He didn’t bother sleeping, either, whenever he closed his eyes he still saw Sapnap’s dead ones staring back at him, accusing him of being a coward, or not being able to express what he felt sooner. About not saving him. 

In the day, sunlight coated numbness barely got Dream out of bed sometimes to check his phone. Once, just once every day he checked his phone. He hadn’t even touched his computer, not bothered to make any videos. Half arsed tweets from Karl and George let everyone know that Dream was on break for a while, and there wouldn’t be any Eboys videos for quite a while. Fans speculated on Sapnap and Dream’s disappearances, but nobody in their tight circle of friends said a word about the true events. Not a peep.

Karl and George tried calling Dream, but he didn’t pick up. He didn’t pick up the phone anymore, didn’t do anything but stare numbly at a wall, wondering what would’ve happened if he had just said three words a little earlier. Karl tried visiting but Dream didn’t respond to Karl, while he made one-sided talk with Dream. A broken man staring hopelessly into the void. They left him alone.

At night, the dam broke. Dream would sit in bed and bury his hands in his face, crying for hours and screaming and pleading and begging for someone-- anyone -- to give Sapnap back.

But it was met with silence, he was met with cold, hard silence.

Sapnap wasn’t coming back, he was gone. Forever.

Dream would never get to hold him again, never hug him again, never make playful back and forth banter on twitter again. He’d never see Sapnap’s bright smile or his pretty eyes ever again.

He was gone.

Sapnap was gone, and Dream felt the world shatter around him.

He just wanted Sapnap back, to hold him in his arms, to kiss him, to tell him all the things he was too afraid to say, but it’s too late. He’ll never get to say those things, and never let the man hear it. Sapnap will never get to hear him say I love you, Dream will never get to kiss him, never get to wipe his tears away and rock him back and forth until he was calm. He’d never get silly tweets about people shipping the two, he’d never get to talk to Sapnap again.

His heart was sore, and it bled. Tears filling the gap where Sapnap used to be.

Dream was a broken man because Sapnap was never coming back. 

And it was all his fault. 

-

It was a week before Dream was able to get up out of bed for the first time, and it was another day before he could force himself to go into what used to be Sapnap’s room.

His hand hovered over the handle, hesitantly and shaking with fear, as if he opened it something would change for the worse.

His hand moved without his permission, unlocking the door and slowly sliding it open.

It smelled like Sapnap.

It smelled like the pretty spring flowers that killed him, it smelled like his shampoo, it smelled like the takeout he got nearly every night. Everything was exactly where it was before he-- before he well, you know.

Dream couldn’t say it-- couldn’t admit to himself Sapnap was dead.

Blankets tossed around uselessly, bed unmade and takeout sitting on the nightstand. His recording equipment lay untouched for months, gathering dust and particles of the like. clothes strung across the floor, bed soaked in dried blood and the floor drowned in spring flowers. They lay across his bed, on his equipment, everywhere. 

Dream’s hand shook on its place on the door, feeling the sickness creep up his throat with bile.

All his fault, all his fault.

He took a brave step into the room, venturing into a place he didn’t dare disrupt the atmosphere of. Sidestepping carefully and quietly everything in the room, not wanting to move anything, wanting it to be left Sapnap for as long as it could before his memory faded before his death was just a memory and not a void strewn into the middle of his heart. He walked to the nightstand with wobbly legs, noticing a small journal that Sapnap had been keeping particularly close to his chest these past months.

It was the only thing he dared pick up, brushing the spring flower off the journal and shakily picking it up with a free hand. 

Inside the leather covers was one message, addressed to him, the rest of the pages left blank.

Dream, if you’re reading this i’m likely dead.

i’ll be honest, i dont know how to start this other than: dont blame yourself. its not your fault i died. it’s not your fault i caught feelings. please, dont think its your fault.

i just wanted to let you know how much fun i had. living, i mean. you were my best mate, fuck, more than that. i’ll miss the times when we record reddit videos together, the times when we make stupid jokes on twitter, hell, even the eboys. 

i’ll miss it, but those were the best times i could’ve asked for. thank you, so much. 

i’ll miss will, i’ll miss karl, i’ll miss quackity and lewis and everyone. i’ll miss you, but don’t miss me too hard, ok? 

i love you, and i wish this didn’t have to be the end. i’ll miss you.

it’s not your fault.

stay safe, be careful for me.

i’ll always love you.

Sapnap.

Dream didn’t realise he was crying until he saw the drops littering the page, tears cooling his hot cheeks and eyes already sore. His breathing stuttered, coming quickly and halted, not enough air, he needed more air.

“I love you too,” Dream whispered, voice hoarse. “I’ll always love you too.”

A choked sound breached the room, Dream’s hands gripping the journal and letting his arms droop slightly, eyes clenched shut.

“Please come back, Sapnap please. Please, please, please,” he felt his knees go weak, allowing himself to drop down onto the ground and prop his back up against the side of the bed, journal discarded by his side and phone lying half out of his pocket, Dream gently cradled his head in his arms.

Loud, whimpering sobs shuddered down his entire body, quiet sobbing delving into loud pleas for help, for someone, something to bring him back. He’d do anything, ANYTHING!

Anything. he’d do anything. 

Quiet whimpers, pleads with the universe.

He just wanted Sapnap back.

It was silent for a moment before his phone rang. Dream stifled and wiped away his tears, not bothering to look at the caller ID as he picked it up and tried not to let his voice quiver.

“Hello?” He asked into the microphone, displeased with how weak he sounded. He’d been trying to pick up the phone more, albeit it being hard to force himself to converse.

There was a breathy laugh on the other side of the line, a shaking hand holding his phone pressed it closer to his ear. “Hi Dream,” said a voice.

Sapnap, it was Sapnap.

Dream let out a broken noise, tears overwhelming his eyes. “Sapnap? Sapnap oh my god you’re alive?”

“Yeah, I am.” There was a shaky pause. “George n’ Karl have been tryin’a reach you but they said that you weren’t picking up the phone. Figured I’d give you a ring.”

Dream felt his mouth go dry. Well, he’s feeling quite stupid right now. Or, he would be if he wasn’t experiencing a tidal wave of emotions from the simple sound of Sapnap’s voice. 

“Where- where are you I’ll- I’ll be there soon.”

Sapnap said the hospital name, and Dream scrambled to his feet.

Sapnap smiled on the other line and nodded to himself, seeing the nurse gently urge him to finish up the phone call. “Sorry mate, have to go now,”

Dream only let out a breath of agreement in response when he hung up the phone, scrambling outside.

-

Dream’s feet clattered against the smooth hospital lobby floor, skidding towards the counter in the front, and quickly going to the open lady at the end. 

“Hello, are you checking in or looking for someone?”

Dream took a second to catch his breath. “I’m looking for Nick, he should’ve checked in about a week ago, Hanahaki disease,” he listed off quickly, out of breath and panting. The lady at the desk nodded, clicking and typing something out into an obscure website on her computer.

“He’s in room 92 in the basem-”

“Thanks!” Dream cut her off mid-sentence, skidding back to the other side of the counter and around, digging his heels down into the stairs as he descended down a flight of stairs into the basement, skidding past workers and other emergency staff as he quickly looked for any room labelled ‘92’ with a door (hopefully) left ajar.

A moment of skidding, and he found himself in front of the room, the door slightly ajar and Sapnap talking to this nurse, lady, whatever. His eyes gently floated to Dream, and a fond and warm smile planted on his face. Dream, taking no note of the nurse (rip) collided into the room and wrapped his arms around Sapnap as quick as he could, face buried into his shoulder and wordless communication intertwining the two men. 

The nurse gave a polite smile and left, closing the door slightly so they had a bit more privacy. Dream clung tightly to Sapnap, feeling Sapnap’s own arms weakly dangle around his back and lace his fingers together. Dream, uncaring, let out a muffled sob of relief into Sapnap’s shoulder, muffled by the (admittedly horrendous looking) hospital gown. 

They clung onto each other like that for minutes, and Dream reluctantly pulled away, moving his hands from his back to his forearms, gently staring at the boy with relief coated face, a lovestruck laugh erupting from his throat, tears still streaming down his cheeks. Sapnap smiled fondly back, gently bumping their foreheads together as Dream regained his breathing.

“I can’t believe- you’re alive! what did- how did- i-” Dream slurred over his words, desperately trying to figure out the right first thing to ask, stumbling and tripping over his words. Sapnap waited patiently, eyes gently staring back into his as Dream stopped trying to speak, closing the short distance between them and enveloping him into a soft kiss. He could feel Sapnap smile in relief through the kiss, gentle hands going to cup his chin as Dream’s hands dangled to his waist, letting the warmth coarse through his veins.

Dream let his eyes shut, enjoying the moment and shamelessly letting tears streak his face, Sapnap’s eyes betraying him with a similar motion. 

Sapnap pulled back first, laughing and gasping for air. “Christ mate I still need to breathe.”

Dream only sniffled and chuckled weakly, breath stuttering and coming and going too quickly through choked sobs.

Sapnap was here, alive, in his arms and he hadn’t forgotten about Dream.

He was alive.

Dream enveloped him in a hug again, sitting gently beside him on the bed for a better angle. Dream buried his face into Sapnap’s neck, Sapnap’s nimble fingers tracing his spine smoothly and softly. 

“How?” Dream murmured into his skin, breath hot against his neck. Sapnap only laughed nervously, feeling heat return to his cheeks (least he looked a little less like a corpse now) and resting his head against Dream’s.

“Vines were unrooting themselves by the time they got me, they just had to keep me alive until they finished.”

Dream hummed, gently rocking in Sapnap’s arms as they held each other close, body heat intertwined with the others and limbs tangled with each other. 

They sat like that for a while, in silence and enjoying each others company.

“I love you,” Dream whispered sleepily.

“I love you too,” Sapnap whispered back, hand going back to tracing the outline of his spine carefully, feeling a hint of exhaust creeping at him.

Sapnap was safe, he was safe here, in Dream’s arms. 

“I love you so much.”

Sapnap pulled his gaze from Dream for a moment, staring out at the hallway in front of the room. His gaze locked quietly with the girl from the club, so many months prior. Callie, hospital robe on and stumbling as she walked, was led by another woman slowly and carefully, fondly.

Callie looked up a moment from her lovestruck gaze on the other women and met Sapnap’s gaze, offering a giddy smile and a gentle wave, seeing him warm and safe in Dream’s arms. Sapnap smiled. 

Maybe there were happy endings, after all.

And maybe that was all Sapnap needed.

\--

  
  



	2. [2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which dream arrives too late

\--

_ Sapnap’s hands shook on the toilet lid, voice raw and eyes sore. Red and puffy, he choked out a gaping tear, a taunting little petal flitting down into the toilet bowl after near hours of vomiting flowers.  _

_ Dream, months of seeing Sapnap keeling over the toilet bowl with a mantra of flowers erupting from the back of his throat, felt the sickness of seeing it squeeze his gut. _

_ He saw how Sapnap kept fighting to be alive, kept clawing, kept struggling. His nails would dig into life and plead to not let him go. _

_ Dream rubbed a circle on his back as Sapnap wrenched out a pained sob, tears cascading down his face from the pain he’d been forced to endure. _

_ It made him sick, having to see Sapnap so pained, and all he wanted to do was reach out and hold the boy in his arms. Let the pain go away. _

_ Sapnap wouldn’t get the surgery, Dream tried. But Sapnap had made up his mind an age ago. _

_ For the first time since Dream came home that evening, he spoke. His voice cracked and sounding foreign to him, tears pricking at the hard barrier he forced up for Sapnap. _

_ “It’s over, Sapnap,” _

_ He felt his heart sink into his gut, seeing the boy go quiet for a moment before quietly whimpering, pleading with someone, anyone. Knuckles white, grip on the toilet tight. _

_ “I don’t want to go Dream,” _

_ Dream pulled the boy into his arms gently and let his head rest on his shoulder, dipping his own head into his neck and letting the pained tears worm free of his grasp, tightening his death grip on the boy. _

_ “I know.” He choked out, brokenhearted, through choked sobs. “I’m so sorry,” _

_ “I don’t want to go, Dream,” _

_ “Stop fighting,” he managed through choked tears. He didn’t want the boy to suffer any longer, here in his arms. Leave his last moments with peace and quiet. “It’s over.” He whispered. _

_ He’d learn to regret that day for the rest of his life.  _

-

The first thing Dream smelled was blood. The smell curled his own, making a sick feeling turn his insides into an acidic goop, swirling gooily and disgustingly. Sloshing. 

The smell was rancid, enough that Dream instinctively covered his mouth with his arm, hacking into the fabric of his hoodie. With squinting eyes and eyebrows pressed tightly together, Dream hesitantly dropped his arm and let the overnight bag slide off his arm.

His footsteps clattered in his ears, but he couldn’t hear anything past his own muted breaths, coming in heavy and raspy.

The wood creaked underneath him, sliding into the kitchen and standing by the doorway.

Sapnap lied on his back, blood trailing down his lips and onto his chin. His legs lie sprawled, underneath an ocean of flowers, drowning the kitchen floor in the dusk coated kitchen. The light was still on, humming lightly in his ears. 

Dream’s fingers twitched, hands shaking violently as he took a hesitant step forward, unsure if this was real or if he was dreaming some sick dream.

But as he limply collapsed onto the ground onto his knees beside his best friend, hand feeling for his heartbeat and hearing radio silence, he knew it was real.

His head went empty, breathing shallowing quickly and barrier-breaking. His legs wobbled underneath him, dropping him down onto the flowers with a muted thump, his back sliding against the kitchen counter distantly. All sound seemed to slip into one ear, out the other. Ringing, pitching his ears high and distinctly aware he was crying, Dream peeled himself from the counter and sat by the boy's side.

With a quivering thumb, he swiped the blood off the boy's face. His lips were blue, ice cold. Eyes plucked of any vibrancy they once held, a calm expression on his face. As if he was okay with dying. 

Dream’s bottom lip quivered, rubbing the blood off sloppily onto his jeans and leaning down quietly, pressing an empty kiss to the man that lied dead in front of him.

He was hardly aware of the hot tears scorching and swiping his skin off his face, kissing the man like he always wanted to but met with nothing but a stoic, hollow feeling of lips on his. The empty kiss that would never return. A broken cry ripped his throat apart as his mouth trembled downwards into a pained frown.

He swiped his lips away from the boy and clenched his eyes shut, burying his face in the dead man’s corpse and gripping at his hoodie. Muted cries muffled the air, pleads that would never be returned.

He’s gone.

-

The paramedics arrived much like Dream did, far too late to do anything. He remembers the paramedic's lady ushering Dream off Sapnap with a soft promise to help him. A faint lie tangled in her words. He remembers the gentle way she felt for his pulse and asking Dream how long he’d been there. 

Dream couldn’t speak, his throat was too raw, too sore. His emotions lay coiled on the ground in a helpless heap and he couldn’t speak. 

He remembers the way she dragged him onto the stretcher, the way they could see Dream’s heartbroken face when the lady said she couldn’t do anything.

He hardly heard the words as some lady-- one of them, he couldn’t tell-- put her hand on his shoulder and quietly whispered: “I’m sorry.”

Sorry wasn’t going to bring Sapnap back. Dream told her as much. The lady frowned and squeezed his shoulder, pulling him in for a tight hug. Dream hugged back, feeling the hollow emptiness of crying for so long drain him of all ability to do anything else.

So he hung limp in her arms before Karl and George arrived, helping Dream back to Karl’ flat with an arm around his back, the limp boy hardly able to do anything on his own. Too grief-stricken, too alone.

He felt so alone.

-

Dream didn’t mean for his face reveal to be like this, but it is what it is.

He sat down limply in front of a camera, obviously in a different flat than his own. Karl was out for the moment, and after two weeks of radio silence on Dream’s part, he decided people should know.

The camera was set up the way he normally did. He unconsciously shifted away to move for Sapnap, as if he was filming another stupid shorts video with him.

Before he remembered the boy was gone.

Dream swallowed thickly, forcing himself not to cry before he even hit record.

Clicking the record button was difficult. One of the harder things he’d done in his life.

Probably on par with shoving down his feelings for Sapnap, only to let him wither in his hold, fade from life before he even got started living. 

He inhaled and exhaled shakily, carding a hand through messy, unkempt hair. Hair that hadn’t been taken care of for two weeks now.

He wasn’t ready to do this, he wasn’t.

He let his eyes shut for a moment as he swallowed, then opened his eyes again and exhaled, hoping that would stop the tears momentarily.

“I don’t know how to start this, frankly,” he started, weakly addressing the camera. His eyes, however, couldn’t take it. They kept wandering around the room that wasn’t his. Everything felt so different-- he hated it.

“This is- it’s. I don’t know what to-” He inhaled shakily, hands clawing at his legs as he sat cross-legged in the seat.

“Sapnap is dead,”

With a stuttering voice crack, tears pricked the corner of his eyes and threatened to spill, waterfall down his face in a million unexpressed words. 

“I wish this was a joke-” he hiccuped, moving the side of his hand to rub away the tears and look away from the camera, pretending his eyes weren’t sore and his heart didn’t yell and fight and tear through his chest until he couldn’t breathe. “I wish this was some elaborate prank some- some stupid little meme.”

“But it isn’t, he’s dead,”

Dream let out a stuttered cry, moving a hand to cover his eyes, clenched shut and trying so hard to be strong for millions of people. But he couldn’t, he really couldn’t. It was all his fault, how could he?

“It’s my fault. Hanahaki it- I-,” He tripped over his words, unsure how to explain it in a way that wouldn’t make him break down.

“It's not fair,” he whispers, voice torn. “It’s not fair he’s gone and I’m still here.”

He took a second, took a forced breath and tried again, forcing his eyes to stick to the camera, to not glaze over like he knew they were.

“Two weeks, it’s been two weeks. I- I didn’t mean for it to come to this,” His teeth sunk into his inner cheek, ruined sob forcing its way out of his throat, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

"i miss him so much." Dream whispered, voice hoarse. He let his eyes linger back up to the camera, let the audience see the pain tearing through him for a moment before promptly ending the video. He couldn't take it-- couldn't do it. It hurt too much.

In the end, he didn’t edit the video, didn’t let anyone know in advance what was going on before a little notification rung out that Dream had uploaded a new video titled “im sorry.”

He didn’t bother checking the replies, the twitter DMS. He just shut off his phone and cried, and wished Sapnap was still by his side.

-

Dream didn’t bother bringing an umbrella. His arms still lay limp and tired and useless at his sides, hoodie dragged over his hair. 

Other people were there, standing in silence, and a few tears shared among his family. 

Dream stayed quiet, said nothing. 

Some people stepped forwards, said this and that. Dream didn’t hear them, he didn’t want to. He didn’t care.

The gravestone was marked carefully, and Dream hated it.

Nick

2001 - 2021

Leaves bristled and flowed through the wind, dancing a gentle song only Dream cared to focus on. Rain gently splashed onto the ground, faint pattering filling his ears and ringing throughout his brain, digging into the nicks that let him function. He’d think it was a beautiful day, under normal circumstances.

With the clouds dusting the sky in a lovely grey, and faint chirps of animals nestled in thickly wooded treetops, it almost seemed ironic.

Dream always thought the colour pink was pretty, despite everything. He liked the way it was soft, dipped you in a warm embrace. It reminded him of roses in the summer and pretty pink flowers.

And now here he stood, over the grave of a man who died believing he was unloved. Choked to death by the same colour. 

A bouquet of assorted pink flowers lied on top of the grave, and Dream wanted nothing more than to throttle the person that put that there. That mocked him with the flowers that killed him.

But he was too tired and stayed quiet.

The air was withering, cold, shrivelled up and dark. It pricked him like ice through the thin layers of his hoodie, jabbed him almost painfully.

Dream thinks to himself he deserves it, anyways.

The world around him is weighted with grief and empty maundering speeches. He feels heavy here. He feels disgusting, torn with grief.

Most of all he feels hollow. Like a drill dug through him tightly.

The voices tune out, and it’s just the rain soon enough. Dream’s eyes are peeled to the ground, soft, muted tears slipping down his face and dipping into the grass among the rain. 

Footsteps behind him echo in his ears, and he dares to lift his head up, hands slipping out of being tightly clenching in his hoodie’s front pocket.

He turns his head, slowly and carefully, body following and feet turning slowly.

Sapnap stares at him with a muted, melodic smile.

Dream covers his mouth and hiccups. 

“Sapnap?” He quivers, the boy standing quietly behind him, clothed in his classic black hoodie and black sweatpants. Sapnap quivers a smile, eyes crinkling like they do and gentle tears pricking his eyes, making them glassy.

“That’s me,” Sapnap rasps, voice cracking like shattered glass. Dream’s hand shoots to cover his mouth, open mouth gasp and shaken chuckle drawn from his throat.

“You’re...you’re dead?”

Sapnap’s eyebrows furrow, a sad smile creasing his features and dropping down. His eyes look alive, yet there’s a faint hollowness to them. “Yeah, seems to be the case,”

Dream’s nostrils flare, and his mouth feels dry. His eyes feel hot and his chest is tightly clenched. He doesn’t know what to do, and he just plants his feet into the ground and stands there like an idiot. 

Silence draws the air between them thin, yet thickly caked with an acidic bitter flavour. 

“I’m so sorry,” he barely manages out, drawing his hand from his throat, footsteps going against logic and collapsing into the boy’s heavy arms. Sapnap nearly stumbles back, collapsed into by Dream. Dream grips his hoodie tightly and holds his head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault.”

Sapnap sniffles, huffing out a weak giggle that sounds less like a giggle and more like a ruptured plead to never leave. Sapnap’s arms wrap around Dream’s middle too, cradling him tight as he lets the boy cry into his arms like he once did for him. Dream forced a breath in between sobs, clawing tightly for the boy to never let go. He never wants to let go. He wants to stay here, forever. 

“Don’t be,” Sapnap murmurs into his hair, sniffling back a few stray tears threatening his vision.

Dream’s lips quiver, mumbling pleas into Sapnap’s shoulder. “I love you. I love you so--” he hiccups, “so much.”

Sapnap’s smile trembles, hiccups littering the air between him too as he laughs raspily. “I love you too, Dream.” He shakes his head, pressing a kiss into the man's hair and rocking him close. “I love you so much, and I’ll never leave. I promise I’ll never leave. Just don’t let my death drag you down, keep living. For me.” 

He presses a hand to Dream’s heart, feeling the heartbeat course through his palm and listen to it for a moment selfishly, reminding himself that Dream was still alive, at the very least. “I’ll be right here.”

Dream hiccups, breath shallow and hollow. Tears are streaming his face, they’re salty. They’re so salty and Dream doesn’t give a single shit because he’s wrapped here in Sapnap’s arms and he doesn’t know for how long but he never wants to go.

“Don’t forget me,” Sapnap whispers, the threads of his existence slowly unravelling. Dream doesn’t bother to see the surreal action, only holds the boy closer and screams and cries and sobs as he pats his hair and shushes him and reassures him he’ll see him again.

Dream pulls away for a final moment, eyes sore and puffy as he chokes out a final, “I wont.”

Sapnap smiles a gentle smile, pressing his lips against Dream’s forehead for a final time. Dream can feel the tears running down Sapnap’s face.

-

Dream blinks heavily after keeping his eyes clenched shut for so long. His breathing is ragged, heavy. George’s hand is rubbing soothing circles into his back, and he’s still staring at the grave, hiccupping and crying like a fool.

His heart is empty, and his mind is hollow. There’s this despicable want tearing him from the inside. An impossible want. 

And all he could do was stand there and lean into Karl’s touch, hoping one day he’d see Sapnap again.

Because there weren’t always happy endings. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLL

**Author's Note:**

> LOL
> 
> twt is @raytick4 come yell at me


End file.
